Not A Good Reason
by Alraune
Summary: [Slash, Threeshot] So you all know the basic plot: Harry has to go to Slytherin for dubious reasons – and the Slytherins turn out unexpectedly nice! Except for one certain blond prick… Features SlightlyCholeric!Harry, Snarky!Draco, MarriageCounsellor!Snape, Inappropriate!DoorCarvings and the Bug of Love.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: None of this is mine, everything belongs to the great Joanne K. Rowling!

Warnings: Slash, mentions of femslash, Lime, a bit of swearing.

A/N: This is another translation of one of my German stories… for some reason, I've only written rather dramatic stories in English so far, but sometimes I write humorous stuff, too. I hope you'll enjoy my story!

(This is a repost, I removed some minor mistakes from the first version)

xXx

"That is not a fucking good reason!" Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Tortured-By-Ignorant-Headmasters, also known as the Saviour of the Wizarding World, stood in his Headmaster's office, fuming and yelling swear words that made his House Teacher, Professor McGonagall, blush fiercely.

"Calm down, Harry, my dear boy," said the Headmaster-Who-Was-Exposed-To-His-Pupils-Temper-Tantrums Dumbledore, also known as the brightest crayon in the box of the Wizarding World, and unwrapped a strawberry drop. (He had changed to strawberry drops after finding out those were much cheaper (yes, there were reasons why he was the sharpest knife in the drawer) and tasted a lot better.)

"I will not calm down!" Harry yelled, punching the headmaster's desk repeatedly, which was used to such fits of violence, however, and didn't even bother trembling.

"You should finally realize that childish tantrums will not change anything," snarled his hook-nosed, bad-tempered, children-hating Potions teacher, Severus Snape, also known as Greatest Potion Master of All Times and most-hated teacher ever of Hogwarts.

"I'm not childish!"

"Pull yourself together, Potter." This wise counsel stemmed from Harry's arch-enemy-for-ever-after Draco Malfoy, also known as the hottest Pureblood to ever have walked Hogwarts' halls in his overpriced designer-shoes.

"Keep out of that, you –" Even Snape paled at the insult Harry hurled at his arch enemy, but Malfoy took it with cool arrogance and only responded with a cool: "Is that all your tiny wits can produce?"

That was too much for Our Slightly Choleric Saviour who jumped the blonde beau, snorting like a bull, and punched him right in body parts that should better not be mentioned. McGonagall shrieked and held a tiny silver instrument, which whistled and spread a most disagreeing smell, in front of herself as (a somewhat feeble, admittedly) defence (she had discovered it on one of Dumbledore's shelves and immediately selected this one to be her shield). Snape inconspicuously hid behind Fawkes, who screeched indignantly – well, in fact he was not hiding, he just had a look at those interesting Arithmancy books Dumbledore hoarded which happened to be behind Fawkes. The headmaster himself, however, sat underneath his desk, which he had had strengthened with liner plates with great foresight, and munched strawberry drops comfortably.

When the rumbling, clanking, cracking of breaking bones and the usage of inappropriate swear words had ceased, Dumbledore appeared from behind his desk in a most dignified way and announced: "Well, as there has been a peaceful agreement, the plan will be followed as soon as you are out of the Infirmary, dear Harry."

xXx

Harry was in a bad mood. Like, in a really horrific mood – it was not unlikely that he was the angriest person on this earth (though only on earth, of course, who knew what kinds of choleric beings dwelled far from our little planet). As Harry was, in fact, a very cheerful person, however, he hated being mad which made him even madder.

If his mood weren't already so bad it couldn't possibly become worse, it would have been decreased even more by the fact that he was in the Hospital Wing. Both his arms and legs were put in casts which made him immobile – which was probably the very reason Madam Pomfrey had decided to put all of his limbs in a cast despite being able to heal most injuries with a swish of her wand.

If he had not been placed under a Silencio, a stream of curse words would have come out of his mouth (his only body part capable of moving, currently), but so he could only grind his teeth in silent fury.

Of course he would not have been so mad, if Dumbledore didn't exist (well, that was maybe a bit over-the-top, but he was really mad), stupid Dumbledore with his stupid ideas! Harry ground his teeth so violently he almost broke his teeth, hadn't Madam Pomfrey, with great foresight, placed a tooth protection spell on him. Unfortunately, he was not willing to think about the horrible things Dumbledore had done to him, so we will have to wait until his friends come in so he can tell them. Oh, here they come!

Hermione Granger, also known as the second brightest crayon in the box of the Wizarding World, stormed into the Infirmary with her hair flying, her boyfriend Ron Weasley, also known as the wizard with the reddest hair ever, hot on her heels; behind him his little sister Ginny Weasley, also known as Gryffindor's poster lioness, and Neville Longbottom, also known as the clumsiest Hogwarts pupil of all times.

"Harry!" Hermione panted. "How are you?"

Harry, however, could only grind his teeth so loudly the little Hufflepuff Firstie, who lay two beds right of him, his face covered in green dots, shrieked and fell from his bed. No one paid him any mind.

"Finite Silencio!" Hermione said, yet again proving how much of a know-it-all she was.

After Harry had (without thanking her, he was way too furious for that) cursed everything, beginning from the Big Bang, continuing with evolution and ending with crappy TV shows and insulted Slytherin in a way that made Malfoy flail in his bed (who had been put on the other end of the Infirmary), Harry's face was very red and he had to gasp for air.

"Please remind me I might have to dose him with calming potions until I have found something sufficient against temper tantrums," Hermione said to Ginny, and continued: "There, there, Harry, whatever may have happened cannot be that bad you have to curse the Backstreet Boys in such a scandalizing way."

"Yes, it is!" Harry, the Boy-Who-Would-Simply-Not-Calm-Down, snarled. "Dumbledore wants to put me into Slytherin, damnit!"

Upon hearing this enormity, Hermione's scolding expression changed into a pitiful one (though Harry thought he might have glimpsed a grin on her face for the shortest of moments, but surely that had been a deception). Ginny's expression turned in something that could not be described with words, Neville blushed deeply, for some reason, whereas Ron, being Harry's best friend, expressed his rightful anger in a way that made Malfoy only twitch a bit.

Hermione ordered: "A few more details, please."

"I am supposed to live with those…" he didn't find a word that might express his contempt, so he only snorted in a way that expressed his contempt very well, "in one dorm, so I can…" he gasped for air and Malfoy's toes wiggled expectantly, whereas Harry's face had taken a dark red colouring, "discover Slytherin's _advantages_ which will enable me to conciliate the _misunderstandings_ between Gryffindor and Slytherin!" The last words he spit out in a way he might spit out a spider he had accidentally eaten.

"What advantages?" Ron thundered and Malfoy's feet twitched upwards and fell down with a nasty crack.

"Don't you wriggle all the time, Mr. Malfoy!" Pomfrey's singsong voice came from her office. She did not appear overly bothered, however, as she was used to certain Slytherins and Gryffindors wreaking havoc and needing her assistance afterwards.

"Slyness, wickedness, sex-appeal…" Ginny said huskily, turning one strand of her hair around her finger. Neville blushed even further, Ron gaped at her, Hermione paled (though that was probably due to the fact she didn't know something) and Harry only managed a very un-manly shriek. Malfoy's toes, however, wiggled in a content way and the Hufflepuff dared peeking at them from behind his bed.

"G-G-Ginny!" Harry finally spluttered.

"That is indeed my name," she confirmed with a smile. "And what exactly is so bad about being in Slytherin? You are stronger than them, Harry, cooler, hotter, richer, more famous, more wicked – simply better!" While saying that she grinned a grin that did not match her innocent school-girl-look at all.

Malfoy's toes twitched furiously and a snicker was to be heard from Madam Pomfrey's office.

"Well, well," Harry grumbled; he didn't want to admit he was flattered; and besides, he was _still_ mad.

"Ginny is right," Hermione said in her this-discussion-is-finished-voice. "You will go into Slytherin and show all those sissys" (at those words, Malfoy almost fell out of his bed) "how awesome Gryffindors can be." (Ginny's grin was so wide it almost didn't fit into her face anymore.)

xXx

Severus Snape had never been closer to having a heart attack. He decided to include this particular moment in his memoires – provided that he would survive this evening. The peril upon his long, happy life was caused by none other than Harry Potter, who stood in his school uniform with his Gryffindor tie (Snape had to gasp for air: How dare he!) in the Slytherin Common Room and ranted at _him_ , Severus Snape (how dare he!), because his dorm mates wouldn't allow him to hang his GAG-flag (an, unbeknownst to Potter, obviously, somewhat unfortunate acronym for "Gryffindors are great!") in their dorm.

"If you do that, I'll rip out your toe nails and make them into a potion that will etch your skin off!" hissed Draco (his godson, who had an overall sweet personality, but not when Potter was concerned). Several Slytherins stepped back wisely.

"If you stop me, I'll shave off your hair and make it into a fur coat for me!" Potter barked.

"If you dare to do that I'll make myself a necklace of your owl's feathers!"

"If you dare to do that I'll crumb and fry Zabini!" Potter's face had taken a worryingly dark red colour. Zabini paled and hid behind Snape's back.

"Then I'll crush Granger's head between two books!"

"Then I'll make mincemeat of Crabbe and Goyle!"

In the meantime, the Common Room had emptied unusually quickly (which was never the case whenever Snape sent his Slytherins to bed) and Snape had to massage his temples. He felt the slightest hint of a migraine coming up, which he hadn't had in years – no, decades. "Please, gentlemen," he admonished, "behave as befits a Slytherin."

The bellow Our Slightly Choleric Saviour produced upon that remark was not unlike that of a furious manticore, little puffs of smoke rose from his ears and he stomped a small dent into the floor with his foot. "I am not a Slytherin!" he thundered. "I am a Gryffindor!"

Snape wished he had thought of putting in earplugs before dealing with the newest plague Dumbledore had inflicted upon him. "You are a Slytherin now, Mr. Potter!" he said sharply.

Potter's tantrum shook the dungeons, but no matter how he fumed (and destroyed his GAG-flag, unbeknownst to him, though), Severus stood like a rock amidst a mighty storm. Draco added a few mean remarks into the general hullaballoo, which Potter overheard, however (something which prolonged Draco's life significantly.)

"Would you like to spend another night in the Hospital Wing because you bit off your tongue?" Snape hissed icily, and Potter gasped for air indignantly. He got even redder in the face and reminded Snape of a valve which had to hold back a waterfall.

"Mr. Malfoy, please show Potter to the dorms," Snape ordered. He knew that this might be a fatal mistake which might possibly cause the destruction of Hogwarts (but then again, Hogwarts was a very old castle and a renovation surely wouldn't hurt), but he didn't feel capable anymore of dealing with overly emotional Gryffindors – er, Slytherins. Damnit. He needed a glass of whiskey. A _very_ strong whiskey. Best to have the whole bottle.

xXx

Harry ground his teeth while Malfoy led him up the stairs, perorating about Slytherin's greatness.

The dorm was dark green and everything was quite similar to the Gryffindor dorms, except for the general Slytherin-ness. Zabini, who was still a bit pale, said in a trembling voice: "Welcome, Potter. Your bed is over there."

"He is supposed to sleep next to me?" Malfoy asked in a voice that did nothing to veil his disgust.

Zabini sighed. "No, Draco, I swapped beds with you."

"Did you also swap our bedclothes?" Malfoy asked pointedly.

"You are an arrogant prat!" Harry snarled at him.

"Why, I could say the same thing about you," Malfoy replied and Harry almost admired him for the distaste audible in his voice – but only almost.

"Draco, would you please go downstairs? Pansy would like a word with you," Theodore Nott said as he entered the room.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and disappeared. Harry felt as if a great tension had left him and slumped onto his bed.

Goyle wiped his forehead and groaned: "Merlin, you two are truly stressful!"

"Maybe Malfoy is, but I am not!" Harry snapped, jumping up immediately, and Goyle raised his hands defensively.

"Yeah, whatever, calm down."

"So, Potter, listen," Theodore Nott interrupted them. He sounded about as moody as he looked like. We do have three rules in Slytherin: #1: Be good-looking. #2: If you are not good-looking, behave as if you were, meaning be arrogant and mean. #3: Obey the rules."

Harry laughed, somewhat surprised. "Oh, really. Er, okay."

"You'd better abide by them," Zabini advised.

"So that is why Malfoy is always arrogant and nasty? Because he's not good-looking?"

"Who's not good-looking? You?" Malfoy asked as he had just entered the room again.

Harry bared his teeth. "No, you."

"You."

"You."

"You."

"You."

"You."

"Guys, that is ridiculous," Crabbe said. Zabini looked at him approvingly; it didn't happen often that Crabbe said such complex things that fit the context so neatly.

"Shut up!" Malfoy and Harry said synchronously in order to keep arguing.

At that moment, however, someone else entered the dorm (where continual coming and going seemed to be the norm). This someone turned out to be Pansy Parkinson, who addressed Harry and welcomed him warmly: "Hey, Potter. Would you like to have dinner with us girls?"

"Yes, that would be lovely," Harry said, taken aback by her polite request.

As he left the room, he paid only little attention to Malfoy having a tantrum: "Traitors!" he fumed. "The girls betray our House; hanging out with a Gryffindor!"

"Potter's a Slytherin now," Zabini said in a bored voice, which shut Malfoy up and made Harry smirk.

"You may call me Pansy," she said kindly.

"Fine, but why are all of you so nice to me?" Harry asked nervously.

Pansy laughed. "Why not? Do you really think all Slytherins are terrible monsters who have Gryffindor Firsties for breakfast?"

"Well, I hardly know anyone but Malfoy," Harry said defensively.

"Oh, but Draco is very sweet," she said. Harry almost choked on his own spit and Pansy hat to pound his back until he could breathe normally again. "You simply don't know."

"Yes, that must be it," Harry panted.

"And, in fact, I hadn't thought you would be so nice," Pansy explained, smirking. "These are the Slytherin girls: Millicent, Daphne and Sally-Anne. Girls, that's Harry."

"Potter, you needn't even show up looking like that," snarled Daphne Greengrass, a thin girl with black eyes and a generally disapproving expression.

"Huh?" Harry looked down confusedly.

"The Gryffindor tie," grouched Sally-Anne Perks, a slightly chubby blonde, and rolled her eyes.

"I won't remove that one!" Harry yelled, his eyes widening with horror.

"Then I'll do it." Without hesitating, Pansy ripped his tie off and turned it silver-green with a poke of her wand.

Harry squealed, horrified. He looked… like a Slytherin!

"You look like a Slytherin," Millicent Bulstrode remarked. Harry didn't want to be mean (he really didn't), but she hadn't gotten any prettier since their second year and the incident with the cat hair.

"Wonderful!" Pansy said and clapped her hands. "Off to dinner then, finally!"

Together, they marched to the entrance of the Common Room – the Slytherins stopped in surprise when they discovered Ron and Hermione waiting there and peeking in curiously as soon as the entrance opened.

"Ron! Hermione!" Harry yelled excitedly, rushing towards his friends.

"So, how are you? Did the Slytherins treat you nicely?" Hermione asked, patting his shoulder and sneering at Millicent who sneered right back. Obviously there was still some enmity left between them.

"Yeah, everyone except Malfoy."

"Mate, you must be above that kind of things, now that you're a Slytherin," Ron said, slapping Harry's back.

"Yes, but that's Malfoy we're talking about," Harry murmured, not paying attention to Hermione nudging Pansy with her elbow and whispering something into her ear.

"What about me?" Malfoy asked. He had just come out of the Common Room and strut along the hall as if the castle belonged to him.

"Prat," Harry hissed.

Zabini rolled his eyes and Pansy snickered.

"You will have to get used to him," Hermione said, taking Ron's arm. "Come on, let's go to dinner."

Harry, who stood in the hall like a lost puppy, stared after them incredulously.

"Well, you are a Slytherin now," Pansy declared and shoved him so he began stumbling forward. "Watch your posture when walking, Harry." She lowered her voice a bit. "How do two Gryffindors know how to find our Common Room?"

"Oh," Harry said. "Oh. Well, that's a long story… you really don't want to know."

"But I do," Pansy said, frowning.

"Well, it involved the usage of a highly restricted substance, so I can't talk about it without, er, causing problems."

Oddly, Pansy seemed to find that really funny because she began laughing loudly. "Not so much of a golden Gryffindor, are you, Potter? And your friends neither, are they?"

"I never said we were," Harry said grinning.

Pansy still snickered when they sat down at the table, but soon enough she had to direct her attention to our two squabblers. Harry sat between Millicent and Rose, fuming, while Pansy built a high wall of pumpkin juice jugs around him so he couldn't see Malfoy who sat with the Slytherin boys a few metres from him and pierced Harry with looks full of hatred.

"Just ignore him," Pansy advised him, obviously unbothered.

That was a good idea, Harry decided; Malfoy could do anything he wanted and Harry would simply ignore him! Ha! He sat up a bit, not realizing that Pansy winked to Hermione at the Gryffindor table.

xXx

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first part! Next up: a brawl in the shower (who doesn't love those?), yet another of Trelawney's prophecies and a possible apocalypse.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Welcome back! Enjoy the second part of my little three-shot!

xXx

" _Just ignore him," Pansy advised him, obviously unbothered._

 _That was a good idea, Harry decided; Malfoy could do anything he wanted and Harry would simply ignore him! Ha! He sat up a bit, not realizing that Pansy winked to Hermione at the Gryffindor table._

Soon enough, however, Harry's noble intentions were destroyed while he took a shower in the bathroom, when Malfoy began taunting him: "So, how often did you fail today at being a Slytherin? Just admit it, you can't do it –"

He broke off because Harry's soap was stuck in his mouth and fell onto his knees, gagging and coughing. Blaise rolled his eyes, removed the soap from Malfoy's mouth and placed it neatly where it belonged: on the shelf.

Malfoy, however, bared his teeth aggressively, turned his water ice cold and directed it towards Harry. Vincent, who had stood between them (which was not a sign for his intellect), jumped aside screeching, slipped and crashed onto the floor. No one cared, though, because the other boys were busy watching Harry and Malfoy.

Harry, who was hit with ice cold water, shrieked (it should be mentioned that this was a magical castle and the water could therefore get _very_ cold) and rushed at Malfoy. Malfoy dropped the showerhead, raising his hands defensively, but Harry crashed into him with such brute force both tumbled to the ground in a mess of limbs. Of course, their situation might have been interpreted in a most inappropriate way, as both of them were naked, but those who realized the suggestiveness about their position were wise enough not to speak of it aloud.

"I kill you!" Harry growled, squeezing Malfoy's throat, not even remembering that he had promised himself to ignore Malfoy not even half an hour ago.

"First I kill you!" Malfoy choked out and slammed his head against Harry's so Harry's nose started bleeding and he had to let go of Malfoy's throat. Malfoy used that to his advantage immediately, rolling around so he was over Harry now and punching him everywhere he could reach.

Harry pulled his knees up very quickly, catapulting Malfoy forward and bit his stomach, which made Malfoy shriek (in a very un-Malfoy-ish way, but no one dared to mention that) and pause for a second.

In this very moment, Snape, who must have suspected something, rushed into the room and snarled: "Potter, Malfoy, get away from each other! And cover yourselves!"

Both blushed furiously and hastily covered themselves with green towels whereas Snape felt the tiniest spark of content (Ha! They obeyed him! Muahahaha!), which was of course not visible on his face, however. "I expect you to behave like adults," he said in his coolest voice (which he normally reserved for Longbottom's most abysmal failures), "and I expect you not to dishonour Slytherin!" With the infamous swirl of his robes he stormed off again, secretly celebrating himself for his success.

As soon as he was out, Malfoy hissed: "That is your fault, Potter!"

"No, it's yours!" And again, the brawl began – which made the others shake their heads.

"Let's go to bed," Blaise suggested. "They will stop sooner or later."

He erred, however, as became apparent during the next hours filled with sounds that were rather reminiscent of a horror movie than of two naked sixteen year old boys. None of them was able to sleep, except for Gregory who slept peacefully and snored quietly from time to time.

"Do something, anything, to make them stop," Blaise said desperately, his eyes droopy.

"I'm not nutters, I'm not going in there!" Theodore said.

"Very well, then I'll do it!" Blaise snapped, which immediately made him jump to the first place in the unofficial ranking of Slytherins-who-were-tired-of-living.

"You've always been a good friend," Kevin said sadly.

Blaise snorted, narrowed his eyes and rushed into the bathroom. He slammed the door open and bellowed: "WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU FUCKERS, OR MUST I GET _ANGRY_?!"

There was an embarrassed silence, and the nervous shuffling of feet, and Blaise nodded imperiously – that mission was fulfilled. When he returned to the common room, he fell back in the unofficial ranking to one of the last places.

After several minutes, Harry and Draco tip-toed into the dorm and climbed into their beds. "Because of you Blaise is furious at me!" Draco hissed over five beds.

"No, it's because of you!" Harry hissed back.

Vincent was only seconds from a nervous breakdown and he pondered whether it might be suspicious if he broke his leg now so he could spend a few quiet nights in the Hospital Wing (well, even the moans and screams of the injured were more bearable).

"DRACO AND HARRY, YOU WILL SHUT THE FUCK UP NOW BECAUSE I'M NOT ONLY ANGRY, I'M FUCKING FURIOUS AND IF YOU ARE NOT SILENT NOW, THERE WILL BE TWO DEAD PEOPLE IN YOUR BEDS TOMORROW MORNING!"

"Sorry, Blaise," Draco said sheepishly and hid underneath the covers.

"I'm sorry," Harry grumbled and put the pillow over his head as if that could shut out the thoughts about Malfoy.

It didn't, unfortunately, and neither did it shut out Malfoy's snoring which was so loud it would probably make Hogwarts collapse, were it not a magical castle. About half an hour later he lay upside-down in his bed, his blanket and all pillows he could find piled upon his head, but he could still hear him!

Well, Ron and Neville did snore, too, but Seamus always had enough earplugs with him; and Harry wished himself back into Gryffindor Tower.

In an act of desperation, he ripped two pieces of cloth from his scarf, stuffed them into his ears, as far as that was possible, wrapped his tie around his head to adjust them, pulled his pillowcase over his head, wrapped his cloak around it and placed the cover on top of himself. Oh, hold on – air. He made a small hole into the pillowcase with his wand so he could still breathe; and finally, he fell asleep.

He was wrapped up so well, however, that he didn't hear the other Slytherins getting up and only awoke with a jolt when Blaise rocked him violently. "What are you doing there?"

He wanted to sit up, but he had forgotten how many things were piled upon him and so he managed to fall out of his bed. When he had managed to appear under the cover, remove the pillowcase and cloak from his head and the scarf from his ears, five puzzled faces hovered above him. "You alright?" Goyle asked.

Harry snorted. "I couldn't sleep because Malfoy was snoring so loudly!"

"I did NOT snore!" Malfoy bristled.

"Oh yes, you did!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

Vincent collapsed and after he had been brought to the Infirmary, Madam Pomfrey diagnosed a nervous breakdown and prescribed him one week of absolute quiet – which wasn't against his will, surely.

"You simply might've placed him under a Silencio, you know," Blaise said non-chalantly after they had returned to their dorm.

Harry felt incredibly stupid now – sometimes he simply _forgot_ that he was a wizard – embarrassing as that was. So he just grumbled something incomprehensible and Blaise snickered. In order to smooth over the awkward moment he decided to do one thing that always worked.

"Vincent is in the Hospital Wing because of you," he sneered at Malfoy; while he danced with glee on the inside, looking forward to yet another battle with Malfoy – not that he would ever admit to the fact that he actually enjoyed their fights, not even if one hung him up by his ankles in the Great Hall naked while threatening not to take him down until he had admitted it.

"Who started the fight, huh?" Malfoy retorted immediately.

"Who snored all night long?" Harry hissed.

"I do NOT snore!"

"Damn you; you _do_ snore, and I will prove it; and if I have to record it on tape!"

"Muggle things don't work here," Malfoy said triumphantly – obviously not aware of the fact that he didn't deny his snoring anymore.

Harry jumped at him, which made Blaise flinch, grabbed Malfoy's collar and hissed: "Bloody hell, Malfoy, even if they don't work, I will find a way to make them work just to prove you wrong!"

xXx

Dumbledore, who was in a suspiciously euphoric mood once again, asked Harry, whom he had ordered into his office, with a smile: "Well, well, how are you faring in Slytherin? Do you like it?"

"Not at all!" Harry ranted. "Well, if it wasn't for Malfoy, it would not be so bad, most Slytherins are quite nice, actually, but Malfoy – he is driving me mental! I cannot stand being with him for longer than ten seconds! He is driving me up the wall!" He inhaled deeply in order to calm himself again.

"Ah, I see… well, it seems Mr. Malfoy and you are in need of a special treatment; the two of you will be living in a double room now until you finally get along with each other." However, Dumbledore had to enjoy this brilliant idea underneath his desk, which he had now equipped with jalousies for his personal safety, while Our Slightly Choleric Saviour reduced his office to rubbles. Fawkes had to flee to his master in a most undignified flutter and announced his outrage with loud trumpeting.

After the Headmaster's office was halfway destroyed, Harry collapsed into a comfortable chair, which was laced with rubble and dust now, and complained, in a very un-saviour-like-way: "Professor, I can't take it anymore! Every time I'm seeing Malfoy I feel like I have to kill him!"

"My dear boy, I am certain we will find a way how the two of you may coexist in peace." In this moment, Harry's chair collapsed and Fawkes flew in circles above him, hooting scornfully until Dumbledore scolded him mildly.

"I don't want to coexist peacefully with Malfoy," Harry groused in a voice which sounded whiny and indignant at the same time. (He had risen from his embarrassing position again to appear more imperious.) "Couldn't you expel him from Hogwarts? As a token of your friendship towards me? I mean, I defeated Voldemort and brought eternal peace and all that stuff…"

"HARRY!" Dumbledore bristled and Fawkes almost fell from his shoulder, where he had perched comfortably, "how dare you say something like that? I would never do anything something like that! Denying a young wizard his education – how dare you attack my headmaster's honour in such an appalling way?" Dumbledore had to gasp for air as he raged only very rarely, so his stamina wasn't exactly up-to-par. "Leave, before I do things I might regret later on… oh, and go to Professor Trelawney, she might be able to help you."

With Dumbledore still gasping for air and searching for a calming draught (which he found underneath a five-pound-package of strawberry drops after a while), Harry left his office and marched up to Trelawney, mortally offended.

How should that stupid old cow be able to help him? He wondered while climbing up the ladder towards her office.

"Who dares disturbing me on a Sunday afternoon?" Trelawney's slightly irritated voice floated from above him.

"Uhm, it's me, Harry Potter…"

"Oh well, come in." It couldn't be claimed that she sounded very enthused, but it couldn't be claimed either that Harry wanted to stay in her tower for longer than absolutely necessary. "What do you want?"

"Professor Dumbledore said you might be able to help me…"

Trelawney's forehead crinkled and she appeared to be thinking very hard, but then her expression brightened. "Of course, of course! Sit down, my dear!"

She tottered off and Harry sat one of the chintz chairs, feeling confused. When she returned, she carried a crystal ball and placed it with a "clonk!" in front of Harry.

"Very well, let's see. Oh, I see… mysterious mists… and a snake! Oh, it's fighting a lion, but now they are doing other things… oh! Oh dear!" She blushed and covered her eyes, but still peeking between her fingers into the crystal ball. "And I am seeing a bed? Oh, sweet Cassandra!" She blushed even further and pretended to knock the crystal ball off the table accidentally.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, still confused.

Trelawney smoothed her skirts, cleared her throat and said in an embarrassed tone: "Well, Mr. Potter, I'm afraid I cannot help you any further."

"That was no help at all!" Harry complained. "Besides I don't believe your prophecies anyway."

"Why are you even here then?" Trelawney asked pointedly, her lips pinched. "It's your own fault if you don't realize that Mr. Malfoy and you were made for each… oh, oopsies!"

"Made for each other?" Harry shrieked in a most un-manly way while very inappropriate ideas whirled through his brain (which was that of a teenager boy, it should be added). Malfoy, above him, Malfoy, who kissed him, Malfoy, whose hands… "For the love of Godric!" he spluttered. "You cannot be serious!"

"But Mr. Malfoy is _very_ handsome," Trelawney chirped and giggled.

Harry felt even more nauseous than before. "Sweet Merlin…"

"He is… _blond_ ," Trelawney pointed out one of his merits, still giggling. That was the moment Harry decided to flee – may he be the Saviour or not.

Haphazardly, he ran through the corridors of Hogwarts, knocking a few squealing Hufflepuffs to the ground, crashed against two pillars and got completely lost until he arrived completely confused and slightly demolished in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"You are wrong here," Seamus said, looking up from a book called " _Secret love potions – no one will know you did it!_ " "You are a Slytherin, remember? You… Harry?"

Harry collapsed into the chair, where he had always sat since first year, and inhaled comforting Gryffindor air in deep breaths. "Need Ron! And Mione!" he managed to pant.

"I'll go and get them," Lavender offered and Dean sat next to Harry, patting his arm pitifully. "What happened? Did Filch try and snog you?"

"What?" Harry shrieked and yet again his mind was flooded with most disturbing images.

"Yeah, that really happened," Dean continued, oblivious, "he tried that with Neville yesterday, the poor guy is still in the Infirmary. Don't go around telling that, but I think," he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial volume, "someone might've slipped him a love potion – probably as a test subject…"

Seamus cleared his throat and stowed his book in his bag. "Here they come!"

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked crisply, her tousled hair and her blouse buttoned up the wrong way not matching her behaviour at all (Ron was also suspiciously dishevelled and Lavender's face was very red for some reason, but Harry didn't want to ponder about that). "What happened?"

"Dumbledore sent me to Trelawney and she prophesied Malfoy and I were made for each other," Harry groaned, drying his forehead with a tablecloth.

He had expected his friends to act as if apocalypse was near, but he was thoroughly disappointed. Seamus, Dean and Ginny grinned, Lavender and Parvati blushed and giggled, Ron looked on the floor and Hermione smiled. "Well, if she says so, it will be right," she said.

"Hermione!" Harry gasped, horrified by her treason. "You said yourself you didn't believe her predictions!"

"Naturally, Harry, but you needn't be a Seer in order to know that, just like the fact that Neville and Blaise will be an item shortly."

Harry felt a bit faint upon all those shocking news. Then he said slowly: "This is a parallel dimension right? When I left Gryffindor, the portrait hole turned into a portal into a parallel dimension and none of you are real, right?"

"Now you are babbling nonsense, Harry, you know there has never been real proof for parallel universes," Hermione said strictly, "besides, everyone must realize sooner or later that your friends know better what's good for you."

Feeling exhausted, Harry slumped back in his chair. "Does that mean that you think, too, that… Malfoy and I…" He couldn't speak it aloud and shuddered instead.

"Of course," Ginny said, "even you, being totally blind concerning anything interpersonal, must have realized that the enmity between Gryffindor and Slytherin has only been faked so Dumbledore could put you into Slytherin so you could finally get it on with Malfoy."

"Ah," Harry said weakly, "but Gryffindors and Slytherins, it simply doesn't work…"

"Bollocks," Dean said, "Ginny and Pansy are a couple," (Harry paled, then he blushed and realized that Ginny behaved almost… Slytherin lately), "Professor Lupin is going out with Snape," (at that, Harry felt spontaneously sick and almost fainted), "and Neville's in love Blaise – so you see, it's no problem at all."

"But… but I'm not in love with Malfoy!" Harry whined.

"Of course you are, you simply don't know," Seamus said, "in fact, you're not in love, you're obsessed with him."

"Wh-what?"

"You may simply believe us," Hermione said, patting his arm.

Harry needed a few minutes to collect himself. "Ron, what are _you_ thinking about all that?" he asked then, a bit suspicious about his best friend's odd silence.

Ron flinched and blushed. "Well, er… y'know, mate, I know you don't want to hear this, but I think the two of you might fit… somehow." He broke off, coughing awkwardly.

"Ah," Harry said again and rose. "I'm leaving, then."

"I want to see you snogging tomorrow at breakfast!" Hermione called after him and waved happily. Harry fled, horrified.

Where should he go now? Oh, to Hagrid of course! He was his last _true_ friend.

Harry was downright relieved when Hagrid opened the door for him and behaved as he always did – meaning he almost broke Harry's ribs with a hug.

"Good to see ye, m'boy! How are ye? Ev'rythin' alright?"

"Not at all," Harry said tiredly, perching on one of Hagrid's huge chairs. "Something horrifying happened. Hermione – well, and pretty much every one of the people I believed to be my friends – think… or, are under the delusion, rather, that Malfoy and I are secretly in love with each other." He pulled a face. "And I fear she'll pair me off with him, somehow."

"Well, yeah?" Hagrid said. "Nuthin' bad 'bout that, now tell me about the really bad things tha' happened."

Harry ran from the hut, threw himself onto the ground and pressed his ear against cool, muddy earth. Nothing happened apart from the fact that a slug crawled into his ear.

"What was tha' about?" Hagrid asked confusedly and plucked the slug from Harry's ear.

"I was checking if apocalypse was near," Harry said exhaustedly, "I thought I might hear a rumble."

xXx

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this part! Please let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Aaaand here we go with the last chapter!

xXx

"Harry, are you alright?" Pansy asked when Harry stumbled into the Slytherin Common Room.

"No," Harry whined. "Pansy, you have to help me."

"What should I help you with?" Pansy asked, frowning. "If you want to ask me how you and D –"

"Everyone wants to pair me off with Malfoy," Harry whispered, pure horror on his face and not listening to her.

"Well, why not?" Pansy asked. "The two of you were clearly made for each other." She had just finished painting her nails with a poisonous green nail polish and held them before her face, inspecting them critically.

"You… you too?" Harry asked, feeling helpless.

"Of course," Pansy replied, "I am glad you finally realized it. Good boy."

Millicent sat next to them, her eyes bright and shining. "What did he realize?"

"That he and Draco belong to each other," Pansy explained, admiring her nails after having found no fault.

Millicent blushed fiercely, then she began digging through her pockets, finally producing a tiny silver box. "This one's for you," she said, smiling awkwardly, "it will help you."

Harry, who didn't know anymore what to do and whom to believe, opened the box as he wasn't able to do anything else. In there was a fat, black bug, impaled on a silver needle.

"It's the bug of love," Millicent explained, "it will help you and Draco finding your true love for each other."

"Er," Harry said.

"That is a very nice present from Millicent," Pansy whispered into his ear, "she has a huge collection of insects and loves them very much. She only makes gifts of them very rarely."

"Oh," Harry said, "well, thank you, Millicent." While speaking, he automatically turned on his I'm-the-handsome-Saviour-of-the-Wizarding-World-smile, for which he was regularly praised in the Daily Prophet (which Hermione didn't read anymore as it was not serious enough for her anymore) and which had allowed him to win the Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award seven times in a row, knocking Lockhart off his throne. When Hermione wasn't paying attention, he sometimes used it on teachers and students alike (for some reason, Professor McGonagall was uncomfortably prone to his smile) to win himself an advantage (which Hermione would call cheating, of course, which it wasn't).

The only ones resisting so far had been Snape and Malfoy (not that he had actually tried to use it on them), but Millicent clearly didn't. She blushed even more and almost fainted. "Good luck," she whispered weakly, dancing off and almost breaking her neck when she stumbled on the stairs.

"Sweet Salazar," Pansy said, who had blushed a bit herself, "you might want to be a bit careful with that one, Harry. Or, try it on Draco, rather. Off with you, now! Go and speak with him – up the stairs, last door on the left."

It had become clear for Harry that he wouldn't find normal people at Hogwarts anymore, so he obeyed grudgingly and hoped that at least Malfoy had stayed normal.

The door to their room was decorated with detailed carvings of lions and snakes doing very inappropriate things, and Harry blushed and entered hastily.

In the room, Malfoy lay on his bed, leafing through a photo album. The sun shining through an artificial window brightened the room and Harry suddenly had to remember a sentence he had heard not too long ago: "But Mr. Malfoy is _very_ handsome!" Indeed, his hair looked almost like liquid silver, his skin was very pale and flawless and the light drew delicate shadows on his elegant form – bloody hell!

"It's only radiation," he said loudly, "only light hitting a surface and being partially reflected. No reason to panic."

Malfoy turned around immediately and the face he made immediately destroyed the angelic impression (Harry wanted to jump out of the window at that thought). "What are you babbling there?"

"Nothing," Harry said hastily. Without thinking, he added: "I'm glad at least you are normal."

About three seconds later, after having realized what he had said, he ran to the window and tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge.

"Those are magical windows, you brainless twit," Malfoy said, sitting up and putting his feet (he had very pretty feet, Harry noted and had to hit his head against the window) into emerald green velvet slippers. "What do you mean that I am normal, unlike you?"

"Oh, nothing," Harry said, slumping on his bed and pulling the cover over his head. No, he was _not_ trying to hide like a little child! "Just leave me alone."

"What would that make me, if I left you alone?" Malfoy asked. "No, Potter, I will not leave you alone until I have managed to drive you crazy and you jump from the Astronomy Tower."

Harry gave a furious grunt, but he tried to keep his twitching fists underneath his chest. _Ignore him, Harry. Ignore him. You are above him._

"You already afraid?" Malfoy drawled, which was too much for Our Slightly Choleric Saviour. With a growl, not unlike that of an attacking dragon, he jumped at Malfoy, who jumped back, but not without leaving half his silk shirt in Harry's claws… er, hands.

"UARRGGHH!" Harry bellowed, running after Malfoy who had fled the room.

"You'll never get me!" he screamed, and there was a mad twinkle in his eye, which made him seem dangerous, but not half as dangerous as Harry, who took all of the stairs in one jump, his hands reaching for Malfoy.

The Slytherins in the Common Room looked up in surprised and drew back, forming a large circle around the two adversaries, galloping around another. It made for quite a comical sight, however, no one dared laughing.

"I kill you!" Harry yelled, shaking his fists.

"You are welcome to try!" Malfoy yelled back, baring his teeth.

The wise ones among the Slytherins, meaning those who knew with how much brutality these two could lay havoc to any room, advanced backwards, checking the room for emergency routes.

"One day I will!" Harry snarled. "One morning you will wake up, Malfoy, and realize you're dead!"

"I will not!" Malfoy snarled back. "On the contrary, one day you will drop dead and while you fall you will realize that I am better than you!"

"I will not!"

"You will!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"NO!"

"YES!"

Blaise thought this was an appropriate moment for a nervous breakdown. (Of course not without ulterior motives; possibly he might chat up Neville while he was in the Hospital Wing…)

While Malfoy fretted about his best friend, Harry fled once again: He needed someone who didn't want Malfoy and him to be a couple, someone who understood that simply nothing about them fit. And there was only one person left: Snape.

Normally Harry would rather baby-sit a gaggle of Blast-Ended Skrewts than ask for Snape's help willingly (Snape's!), but extreme situations required extreme measurements.

"What is it, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked in his oily voice. "What could ever be important enough for you to bother me on a Sunday afternoon?"

Harry breathed deeply. "Can I ask you a question, Sir?"

"I don't know if you _can_ , but you may."

"Uhm, Sir, do you think… that…" Harry blushed, searching for words and stuttering, whereas Snape bared his teeth, confident of victory, "that… Malfoy and I… you know, should be a couple?"

"Who am I, your marriage counsellor?" Snape sneered. "But if that brings your nerve-wrecking quarrels to an end, so be it. Because of you, I have been suffering from chronic migraine since yesterday."

"Uh, what?"

"Are you lacking the ability to use your ears?" Snape snarled. "And now get lost; and if you do not, I will take five points from Gryffindor."

"But I'm in Slytherin!" Harry retorted.

"For me you stay who you are," Snape hissed and bent over his desk, coming dangerously close face-to-face with Harry, so he had to take a step back, "a Gryffindor!"

Harry decided it would be wiser to advance backwards. Damnit, damnit! Why was no one on _his_ side? Why could no one see that they could never become a couple? But Hermione would never let it go, Harry knew, because he knew that Hermione never let go of anything.

xXx

During dinner, Harry sat next to Luna and chatted with her about the Quibbler and this and that obscure magical species. It felt almost like vacation not having to talk or even think about Malfoy, and after dinner he immediately fled to their room and hid underneath his blanket.

When Malfoy barged in like an elephant (for someone so poised, he could be outrageously loud), he pretended to be asleep, digging his fingers into his pillow which had ten finger-tip shaped holes the next morning.

Their first lesson on this day was Potions, something which made Harry panic on the best of days, but today he was panicking so hard he couldn't even eat anything, no matter how much Pansy tried to talk him into eating at least a slice of toast.

Walking to the Potions classroom felt like walking to his execution and the fact that Snape seemed to be in his killing-kittens-mood today didn't make it any better.

Harry sat on the very end in the last row and tried to hide behind his cauldron, but he was so un-subtle Hermione hissed after a while: "Leave it be, Harry, you're making a fool of yourself."

"I'm afraid," Harry whispered and pondered whether he might hide inside his cauldron.

"You are a Gryffindor!"

Before Harry could reply that he was no longer (it was weird how quickly that had changed), Snape stepped in front of him. "Mr. Potter, be quiet, otherwise I will have to take points from Gryffindor. Now…" He rubbed his hands with glee on the inside, but only a malicious twitch of his lips was visible for the students – which made them shudder. "Today you will do your assignment with a partner."

There was a horrified squeal from Harry's direction. For a short moment, there was a truly frightening grin on Snape's face and several students shrieked with fear, then the Potions Master said in his most baleful voice: "I will announce the pairs now. Malfoy and Potter, Goyle and…"

It was not like Harry hadn't known.

It was not like Pansy hadn't suspected that this would not have a good ending – after all, these two had not been snogging at breakfast.

It was not like Snape hadn't secured his valuable cauldrons and ingredients in a different room with great foresight.

It was not like there wasn't a respectful (or frightened, rather) circle around Harry and Malfoy.

It was not like no catastrophe happened.

"You are dicing the roots wrong!" Malfoy's voice cut through the silence in the classroom. Several students ducked already and Snape hastily took his beloved lustre to the next room.

"You do it better, then!"

"Who am I, a slave?"

"I'm not a slave either, so why am I cutting the roots then?"

"Because I'm a Malfoy!"

"That is not a good reason!"

"Oh yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"YES!"

"NO!"

When the two jumped at each other, Snape murmured quietly: "Please follow me. This scene is not for your eyes; you are children, after all." Students and teacher snuck from the room and waited outside, listening to horrifying sounds which came from within the room.

There were bellows, shrieks, howls, hisses, the crashing of wood splintering, explosions of un-finished potions and a lot of swear words which Snape censored with a spell. On the inside he was celebrating – at last his classroom would be renovated! Oh, you lovely tapestry with pretty cauldrons and rare ingredients, oh, you lovely carpet with Slytherin emblems, here he came!

He wanted to conjure two stretchers, but then he reconsidered and conjured a huge sack instead. "You go to the Infirmary, Finnigan, and tell Madam Pomfrey that two severely hurt students will be within her care shortly!"

xXx

Madam Pomfrey was not enthused at all to have two certain students in her Infirmary again. "I cannot believe you two have to fight all the time!" she scolded. "Sweet Merlin, would you look at yourselves!"

"He started!" Harry yelled, pointing with his finger-in-cast at Malfoy.

"Not true, you did!" Malfoy snarled.

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes and placed both of them under a Silencio. "Gentlemen, I have a few things to tell you. First: If you come here again this school year because of another fight, I will let your wounds heal the Muggle way – and that is not a nice thing, believe me. Second: You will be out of here tomorrow, or _I_ will have a nervous breakdown!"

She rushed into her office, head held high, and Harry scowled at Malfoy and Malfoy scowled at him.

"Ah, the silence," a well-known voice sighed. Both of them turned and there sat Blaise on a bed, which had been hidden by curtains until a few moments ago, holding hands with Neville Longbottom.

Malfoy's eyes widened comically and he flailed violently on his bed. Harry was not surprised, however, and only held up both of his thumbs-in-cast.

"Thank you, Harry," Neville said blushing.

"Well, Draco, that surprises you, doesn't it?" Blaise drawled while Malfoy still wriggled on his bed.

"NO wriggling, Mr. Malfoy, otherwise I will have to put you in chains!" Madam Pomfrey shrilled from her office.

Malfoy stopped wriggling and stared at Blaise and Neville and ground his teeth. "You are totally not up-to-date," Blaise scolded. "Everyone knows we are an item, only you are way too busy obsessing over Harry."

Malfoy ground his teeth, just as Harry did, but Blaise continued unbothered: "I wouldn't be surprised if the two of you got together, after all everyone knows that…"

He didn't get any further for both Harry and Malfoy had managed to rise-and-fall from their beds and crawl over to Blaise. Harry was on his knees, climbing the bed and kicking Blaise right in the guts with his foot-in-cast whereas Malfoy smacked him right over the head with his hand-in-cast.

"MR. POTTER! MR. MALFOY!" Madam Pomfrey was so furious she put both of them in chains (yes, old-fashioned iron chains that clanked with every move), healed Blaise and sent him out of the Infirmary together with Neville while ranting to no one in particular. "Really, there is no way I will accept your behaviour! I am only surrounded by mad people, mad people, oh yes!"

She didn't stop ranting until it was time for dinner and served both of them only bread and water.

xXx

On the following morning they were let out of the Infirmary with a few serious threats from Madam Pomfrey and with lowered heads they marched back to the Slytherin Common Room. (It was a Monday, by the way, yet there were no lessons – but no one was particularly bothered; sometimes Dumbledore spontaneously decided that students should have a day off so they might dwell on what they had learned during the last weeks – not like anyone ever did (except Hermione).)

Pansy looked up from a thick tome called _"How to make a match between two arch enemies without them realizing"_ and said strictly: "Up to your room, and I don't want to hear a word from you!" Then she continued reading, taking notes earnestly, while Harry and Malfoy snuck to their room sheepishly.

Without a word, they lay on their beds; the silence thick and heavy between them. The thoughts in Harry's mind were obviously drunk and pogoing wildly: _What am I to do? Should I start a fight? Will Pansy kill me then? Should I kiss him? Am I mad? Yeah, I am. ARGH, no, I'm not! Keep calm. What if Hermione is right… no, I mustn't think that, Hermione is ALWAYS right. Always. So… should I kiss him? No! Where is my Gryffindor courage? Oh damnit, I'm a Slytherin, I mustn't keep forgetting… should I ask him something? But WHAT?_

"Uhm… Malfoy?"

"What?"

"Er… nothing."

 _My, what a fail. Think, Harry, think. Say something. Anything._

"Malfoy?"

"What?!"

"Uh… can I ask you something?"

"If you shut up then."

"Yes."

"So?"

 _Bloody hell. Think of something, Harry. You've always been good at making excuses… for Merlin's sake! Ask anything! Malfoy couldn't possibly think_ worse _of you._

"Uhm, well… so, everyone at Hogwarts thinks that… the two of us should be a couple."

When Harry looked up from his hands again, Malfoy had slumped on his bed unconsciously. "Malfoy? Malfoy?!" Harry shook him not exactly carefully and after a few seconds, Malfoy opened his eyes again.

"Did you take any potions you brewed yourself? Did you smoke something?" Malfoy moaned, rubbing his temples.

"No!" Harry bristled. "But everyone says so."

"Like who?"

"Well, Dumbledore, Trelawney, Ron, Hermione and pretty much all Gryffindors; and Pansy and Blaise and… _Snape_."

"Sweet Salazar," Malfoy said, his eyes almost popping out.

"Well… do you think we… should try?" Harry asked.

He was brave. He was a Gryffindor – or had been one, at least. He could do that. "I mean, Hermione said it, too, and you must know that she's always right…"

"Who are you and what have you done to Potter?" Malfoy asked, taken aback. "Blaise, is that you? Did you take Polyjuice?"

"No, it's really me, Harry."

"Potter, you've lost it. You've gone bananas."

"Uh… if it doesn't work out, we will simply tell everyone that it didn't work and they will leave us alone so we can fight peacefully until the end of times."

"Fine, whatever."

"Okay."

"You getting started, or what?"

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Well, it was your stupid idea, wasn't it?"

"Eh… you suggest something."

"You suggest something yourself!"

"I… uh, I could kiss you."

"WHAT?!"

"Well, make a better suggestion."

"Fine, then."

"Er, alright."

"Now kiss me finally, you gutless twit!"

For a few seconds they simply stared at one another, then Harry scraped the last bits of his Gryffindor courage together (he had used up the rest for their conversation) and bowed over Malfoy very, very slowly.

Malfoy's face was very close now. Involuntarily, Harry breathed in Malfoy's scent – he smelled surprisingly good (well, he was a bloody rich aristocrat, so that was to be expected); it was a surprisingly dark, manly scent and for some reason it made Harry's nerves tingle; and then Malfoy's warm breath was on his lips.

For a moment, Harry wondered what that incredibly soft and warm something on his lips was, and it took him a few seconds to realize that it was Malfoy's mouth. _Oh_ , he thought, pressing his lips onto Malfoy's. "Kissing, Potter. It means moving your tongue," Malfoy mumbled, a bit inarticulate.

"Oh," Harry said, and opened his mouth, and then Malfoy's tongue was in his mouth – and oh, bloody hell, that felt _brilliant_.

Two arms were wrapped around him and he was pulled down; and a hand dug into his hair and he found himself sneaking his hand under Malfoy's shirt, carefully touching his incredibly smooth skin. He had never snogged anyone before, so he had no idea what he was doing (he was simply trying to imitate the handsome guys from those really bad romantic movies Aunt Petunia sometimes liked to watch when Uncle Vernon and Dudley were not home, blushing fiercely all the time), but Malfoy seemed to be fine with it for he moaned and began to unbutton Harry's shirt slowly.

"Mhm…"

"Mhhhmmmhh…"

xXx

"There has not been a sound from Harry and Draco's room for hours," Pansy said to Blaise worriedly, "I'm afraid they killed one another."

"Nah, surely they are making out," Blaise replied grinning.

The Slytherings sitting around them laughed. "Very funny," Theodore Nott said and continued writing his Potions essay without even looking up.

"If we don't look, we'll never know," Millicent said, lazily impaling a fat green fly on a hairpin. "Oh my, what a lovely thing."

And so it happened that all Slytherin Sixth Years snuck up the stairs to Harry and Draco's room. The lions and snakes on the door had by now taken to doing things that made even these hardened Slytherins lower their eyes.

Pansy knocked, but no sound came from within. "Maybe they are really lying in there, dead!" Sally-Anne whispered, her eyes wide with fear.

"Bollocks!" Blaise said, but he didn't sound completely convinced. Then he opened the door – and the Slytherins froze.

"Blaise, did you put something into my dinner?" Pansy asked. "Because surely I am hallucinating and those are not truly Harry and Draco, snogging?"

Blaise, however, was incapable of answering.

"Only a dream, a beautiful dream," Millicent sighed.

"Well, not exactly," Draco said and sat up slowly. His hair was more ruffled than after that really wild Slytherin party they had had last year; his lips swollen and his shirt half unbuttoned which revealed a glorious love bite on his throat. "You're not dreaming."

"Well, bugger me with a Bludger," Blaise said, rubbing his eyes incredulously.

Harry sat up, too, (the state of his hair was even more questionable than Draco's and _he_ didn't wear a shirt anymore) and grinned. "I thought you had known? Why are you so surprised then?"

"Ah Potter, I just realized you're not even that terrible," Draco said, grinning.

"Well, neither are you," Harry said and Millicent squealed happily.

"Well," Daphne said, who was first to find her wits again, "we _knew_ , of course, but we had never thought it might actually come true."

"Now you know, however," Draco said, "if you would be so kind as to leave us alone now."

And indeed their classmates were so kind as to leave them, but our favourite couple of course didn't realize, caught up in each other as they were, that Blaise had quickly put a Surveillance Spell on their room – no one would believe them otherwise. Besides, they were Slytherins and they knew how to enjoy themselves.

So they settled down in the boys' dorm, munching popcorn and crisps, and watched all the fascinating things that were going on in Harry and Draco's room, which were conveniently displayed on the wall of the boys' dorm.

"Oh, for Salazar's sake, I forgot about the Gryffindors!" Pansy yelled suddenly and dashed off.

Only a few minutes later, she returned, several disbelieving Gryffindors on her coat-tails.

"Oh, now we don't even need the love potion," Seamus said, sounding somewhat disappointed, "and I had already melted five cauldrons trying to brew it! But whatever!" He jumped up and down excitedly, high-fiving Dean and Neville, who immediately began snogging Blaise afterwards. Gryffindor as they were, a popcorn battle started within seconds, but with active support from the Slytherins. Ron, however, needed a few minutes to take in the news, but then he participated even more fiercely in their battle, tackling Ginny to the ground, who didn't particularly mind as she began snogging Pansy, who had been tackled to the ground by Dean.

And what did Hermione do in that pandemonium that was a Gryffindor-Slytherin-party? Hermione smiled. She had known. She had already known when she had talked Dumbledore into putting Harry into Slytherin.

xXx

A/N: I hope you enjoyed my little story!


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